


Riffraff Dollhouse

by Justanothersinger



Series: USUK Dimension Transcension Week 2016 [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Again, Enjoyyyy, M/M, age gap, alfred going to different worlds, and bein very confused, and im back to bein late, arthur sick and tired, dammit, day 4 and its getting weird, haunted dollhouse, in any case i had fun with this one, kind of, of everything, so kinda canon but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justanothersinger/pseuds/Justanothersinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The little house at the end of the lane was haunted. Magical. </p><p>How did he know this? It was quite literally a little house. </p><p>A dollhouse sitting in the center, pristine. Painted in bright colors, looking for all the world like it had tumbled out of some girl's toybox.'</p><p>USUK Dimension Transcension Week Day 04: Wizards AU+Doll!Arthur</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riffraff Dollhouse

Riffraff Dollhouse

A Hetalia fanfiction

 

The little house at the end of the lane was haunted. Magical. 

How did he know this? It was quite literally a little house. 

 

To other people, it was an empty plot of land that no-one even looked at. The grass didn't grow and there was a well-kept garden to the side, the whole thing curtained off by a fence.

  
But he could see it. 

 

A dollhouse sitting in the center, pristine. Painted in bright colors, looking for all the world like it had tumbled out of some girl's toybox. 

 

"Why can't you see it?" He asks. 

"What are you talking about?" They answer. 

 

So, he'd done the only thing he could; ignore it. 

 

Oh, he tried to find out what it was; clambering over that fence was literal child's play. 

What was he supposed to do once he was over, once the house was in reach? 

 

He could pick it up and look through the windows and not see anything. Mostly because it was too dark.

Maybe a doll's hand the time he actually looks at in the daylight. Nothing else. 

And with nothing else he could do about that, he forgets about it. Grows up. 

 

Moves away. 

 

He doesn't even remember about it until he returns to the neighbourhood, 20 years old and the stress of the world starting to take a toll on him, despite what he says. 

Why does he go back there? Hell if he knew. 

Maybe he just wanted a distraction from the world rushing by without him. 

 

He clambers over the fence, easy as breathing and it's still there. 

 

Sitting in the pristine carpet of trimmed grass, like he'd never left. 

"...Yo. You've held up pretty well." He says as he plops down next to it. 

He picks it up.

 

...It's heavier than he remembers. 

 

And when he looks in through the window, he sees a green eye meet his own. 

 

Before he could even react, the door slams open, a blinding light from inside piercing through the darkness.

The dollhouse falls to the ground. 

Phasing through his suddenly transparent hands. 

 

He recoils, closes his eyes and feels a strong, terribly strong breeze on his body. 

The click of a lock. 

And he's falling. 

 

Where was he? There was no ground to be seen. 

Panic spreads through his body and he starts to scream. 

 

The sky was a sickening pink, like girly sodas and strawberry milk and before his eyes stars seem to flutter past. 

They trail across his fingertips and there's the feeling of static, his heart a painful, hyperactive load in his chest. 

 

When he breathes in, he closes his eyes. 

Stops moving, stops yelling. 

  
Stops breathing. 

 

Only for a moment. 

 

He's not falling anymore.

  
He breathes in again, opens his eyes.

 

And sees him, sprawled beside him. 

A sleeping face. 

 

He blinks, sits up and studies the stranger more closely. 

A man? His own age or probably older. Dressed in some weird kinda fancy suit. 

And lying in a bed covered with red sheets that he doesn't even recognize. 

 

"Where...am I?" 

 

"Hm?" The stranger says. He opens his eyes and sees the other man there. 

And strangely enough, he looks more annoyed than anything else. 

 

"Seriously? In my  _bed_?" The stranger asks.

  
"...It's not like I wanted to land here anyway?" He responds, feeling a bit insulted. For some reason. 

"I guess."

 

The stranger gets up and stretches and his sleeves fall back a bit. Enough that he can see the stranger's hands. 

 

The unnatural sheen off his skin and where his hand joins at the arm weirdly. 

Like a socket joint.

 

Like the puppet arms of a plastic doll.

 

"So then?" The stranger asks, as if waiting for a cue. When it never came, he frowns and asks again. 

 

"What are you doing here, Alfred F. Jones?" 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"I was kinda expecting something else."

"Something else?"

 

"Definitely not this." Alfred says, gesturing to the maids behind him, the table of dishes in fancy plates. 

He can still see the window and the pink sky beyond from here. 

 

"Enough for you to keep looking in for days on end." The doll says, eyebrow raised.  

He'd tugged his sleeves down, fully covered from the neck down. 

 

"You saw that?" 

"For awhile, I thought your eye was the actual sky."  

 

"Hm? They're not that blue."

 

"Aren't they? I forgot how it's supposed to look like." The doll says with an easy shrug. 

 

"You've never stepped out?" 

"I can't."

 

"Why?"

"Why?" The doll repeats. He looks mildly annoyed now, "Because that idiot peacock cursed me to look after this house." 

 

"Cursed? You're not a doll?"

"Heavens  _no._ Terrible creatures. You know they were created to house the souls of the dead?"

 

"What?!" 

"I was originally human. A fairly powerful one too." The doll[?] pauses, "I believe my last customer called me a wizard." 

"Customer?" 

 

"This is a shop."

"Seriously? What, am I supposed to buy something and then I can leave?"

 

"Yes and no. We don't accept money and you're not supposed to pay us. It's less of a shop and more of a rest house." 

"...This isn't exactly a house, dude..."

 

"I use that term loosely." 

"Right..."

 

"Anyway, we grant wishes and release our customers from the stresses of the normal world." 

"Grant wishes?" 

"Whatever ails you, we would be able to fix that." 

 

"...Why was I able to see you when I was a kid?"

The doll shrugs, "Were  you a happy child?" 

 

"...I guess."

 

By this point, a maid had appeared by Alfred's shoulder and laid a silver platter of soup. 

He thinks it's soup. 

It's purple and glittery and looks like the night sky. 

 

"Yes, you can eat that. If you want; it's up to you." 

"You say that and I feel like I have no choice." Alfred says with a grin. 

 

It tastes oddly sweet. 

...He's kind of sleepy. 

There's a strange expression on the doll's face.

 

"Did you have a good childhood?" 

"...No." 

"No?" 

 

"Parents...fought a lot. Noisy. Kind of...lonely." 

 

...Weird. He feels short of breath and he doesn't feel his heartbeat. 

 

"Did you like dollhouses?"

"Girly. Weird."

"But you liked them?" 

"...You could play with them. Pretend."

 

"Is that why you saw this as a dollhouse?"

"Maybe." 

"Is there anything you wish for?"

 

"...Happy." 

 

"Hm?"

 

"I just..." 

This was weird. 

"I just want people to be happy. I want..."  


This was way too weird. It's like his brain and his body were two different objects. 

 

"I want to make people happy."

"What a troublesome request." 

 

"If you make me happy...will you..."

The doll claps his hands. 

 

And the feeling's gone. 

 

"You're probably tired. There is a guest room next to mine where you can rest." 

"What was that?" 

"What?" 

 

"That...?" 

...What was he about to say.

 

The doll looks at him, a long, considering look. 

 

"The truth has strange ways of spilling out." Is his only answer. 

"...I don't feel sleepy."  


"Then you're free to leave." 

 

"What?"

 

"Not everyone that stays here is supposed to be a customer. You'll go back and forget that this encounter ever even happened." 

"I just...forget?"

"Yes."

 

"That's convenient."

"Our services do revolve around that."

 

"...What would happen to you?"

"What?"

"Do you just...stay here?"

 

The doll tilts his head, "Yes. Until I make someone happy that is."

"Huh."

"Do as you will." The doll says with a wave of his hand. 

 

When he turns back, the chair is empty. 

And...

 

A few hours later, he finds Alfred sleeping in the bedroom. 

 

"...He stayed?" 

In all honesty, he should have expected that. 

 

How long had he known him?

After all these years, Alfred hadn't changed. 

 

And still he didn't remember him. 

 

Well, it's fine. He'd stick with his story, his made-up fairytale.

 

A wizard cursed into a doll, and stuck to serve the wishes of his customers. 

As fanciful as the story was, it was easier to believe. 

 

He closes the door. 

 

Easier to believe than the truth of the friend that Alfred had forgotten.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Author's Note:**

> Songs used for inspiration: 
> 
> GIRL: Teddyloid ft Daoko[normal and Dari version]  
> Labyrinth OST


End file.
